


Fall After Fall

by pratly2



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cutting, Depression, F/M, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23016067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pratly2/pseuds/pratly2
Summary: Sirius finds out Hermione has been cutting herself. He decides to help, but how can he help when his own past keeps getting in the way?
Relationships: Sirius Black/Hermione Granger, Sirius Black/Severus Snape
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: This fanfic contains possibly triggering scenes depicting and discussing self harm. Please do not read if you feel this might trigger you to relapse. Please. Pretty pretty please. 
> 
> This scene is very loosely based on a one shot fic I read several years ago but have since forgotten the name of involving Remus and Hermione, instead of Sirius. Please please! Let me know if this jogs your memory and you remember this fic I have been trying to find it forever. The rest of the fic goes along with the original premise but is my own original work (well aside from the characters of course.)
> 
> I have a few more chapters ready to go and am continuing to work on it if anyone is actually interested.

I looked at the frail girl sitting next to me. It was amazing how grown up she was, easy to forget she was still so young. It was clear that the grown-up responsibilities that came with being harry potter’s best friend had affected her. I didn’t necessarily want to talk to her like a child, no that would be an insult to her intelligence. But she needed an adult to look after her for once instead of expecting her to solve all of the problems in the world herself.

“Hermione, do you know why I wanted to talk to you?”

She glared at me briefly before looking away, trying to decide whether to play dumb or come clean. “Yeah, I think I do,” she said coldly.

“I’m not here to lecture you Hermione. I’m just here to help you.” I placed my hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away.

“Sirius, I don’t need your help. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

I sighed. “We both know that’s not true. You’re smart. You know you’re not well, and you know you need help. And Hermione, it doesn’t make you weak to ask for help.”

“Like I just said, I’m fine. I’m just handling things differently. This is normal. Besides people would not longer trust me if I ask for help. I’m not supposed to need help I am strong. If I’m not, who else will be?” Her voice got quiet at the end as she blinked away a few tears.

“I spent twelve years in Azkaban with the knowledge that my best friend was the one who actually committed the crime. The whole world thought that I killed Lily and James, my best friend. The whole world hated me Hermione, and many still do. Hermione, do you think I am weak?”

“No, of course not. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

I began rolling up my sleeves to show my glamour tattoos. I thrust my arm out and started the spell to remove the charm but she interrupted me, “Sirius, I’ve seen your tattoos, I know you tough you are, you don’t have to rub it in my face.”

I sighed once more and restarted the spell, loud enough for her to hear. She was confused until the tattoos began to fade away revealing angry white scars. I watched her face betray her surprised sadness only for a moment before she regained composure.

“Do my scars make me seem weak to you? Only a moment ago you told me I was tough; how does this change anything? Do you think I wasn’t strong when I went to Remus for help a few years ago because I could no longer stand the thought of destroying myself? Do you think I was weak when I watched my best friend weep for me? When he blamed himself, when he failed to understand? How about when I had to tell the order I was too emotionally unstable to continue my work?”

She had started softly crying, so I pressed on. “I thought the same things you think now, that everyone would lose trust and interest in me, but the only thing I got was love and support Everyone told me how _strong_ I was to admit that I needed help. You’re not alone Hermione, we’re all here for you, and no one is going to think you are weak, because you just aren’t. You are incredibly brave, more so than any of us has ever been.”

She finally looked up at me. I reached out a hand to wipe away her tears and this time she didn’t’ pull away. She rolled up her own sleeves and removed her glamour, finally ready to admit she needed help. I silently thanked God that her scars weren’t as extensive as mine.

“I don’t want to stop, Sirius. It’s the only thing getting me through,” she whispered

“I know. I know stopping sounds terrifying, but I’m going to be here for you, every step of the way. I’m not going to force you to stop, and I’m not going to tell anyone you don’t want me to. I just want you to think about this conversation when you’re hurting yourself.

She cocked her head in defiance, “I guess I could try but it’s not going to work. I just don’t want to stop.”

“I know you don’t want to, and I know you think you can’t, but you have to. You have to stop because God damnit Hermione you don’t want to have to wake up every day and remember to put your glamour charms on, and god forbid you forget.” It wasn’t fair to get angry with her, but it was hard not to be.

“Okay then genius, how do I do it? How do I stop if it’s the one thing keeping me going, keeping me sane?” Her face softened, “besides I deserve to be hurt.”

“That’s not true Hermione, and we both know it.”

“Well then how did you do it? How did you stop?”

I froze for a second knowing I couldn’t very well tell her that I hadn’t stopped. How would she listen to me then? Regaining my composure, I told her the plan. “I’m going to do what Remus did for me. I’m going to charm your skin so that every time you cut yourself, you cut me too. I will end up with the same marks as you. This way, you have consequences for hurting yourself, and I know when you need someone to talk to.”

Her face pinched in sudden anger, “absolutely not! That’s a terrible idea. I promise I’m fine, I can handle this. I can, I swear I’ll try. Just not this please!”

“It’s this or I tell Dumbledore, and we both know that St. Mungos will be your brand-new home for at least a few months.” I didn’t want it to come down to threats, but she left me no choice.

“Fine. Just please don’t tell anyone. And don’t get mad at me for how often I cut,” she stood to leave but I grabbed her arm.

“Hermione this isn’t a punishment. I’m just trying to help you.”

Without turning to look at me, she replied, “I never asked for you help.”

And then she was gone.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little teaser of backstory and what's to come.

There was no way I could focus on the Order meeting. These people didn’t know what they were doing. Now that there was no war left they didn’t know what to do with themselves. What was the point of the meetings now? It wasn’t like any of the remaining death eaters were strong enough to pick up where Voldemort left off. And why, pray tell, were they still happening at my house?

I looked at each of them, still torn up about their losses and their hurt feelings and lost loved ones. Boo-fucking-hoo. I lost 12 years of my life. Half the wizarding world still recoils in fear when they see me. I missed my godson growing up, not to mention the almost 3 years I spent in the veil. I had to miss my best friend’s wedding and the birth of his son. These people didn’t know about the loss..

“Someone’s rather passionate about the economic tensions in Scotland,” Snapes cool voice drawled out. I realized I was clenching my fists on the table. My sleeve was rolled up just a little, showing thin red lines where there should have been tattoos. Fuck. When I met his eyes, I knew he knew.

“Yeah, Snivellus maybe I am.” He was such a coward. I wished Potter hadn’t saved him and he could have died a martyr like he always wanted. I hated him. He though he was so much better than me, that he had been hurt more than me, that his life was so much worse than mine. Fuck him.

Fuck him. What did he ever lose? Lily? She was _never_ his to begin with! That’s it. That’s all that ever hurt him. Fuck him.

Someone cleared their throat. I looked up to see nearly everyone had left. Snivellus stood next to my chair patiently waiting for me to acknowledge his presence. I stood, “and just what do you want?”

“I saw your wrists,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Wow that must have been exciting for you! Did you get off a little knowing what I do to myself these days?”

I knew I couldn’t deny it, so I was simply angry. Angry at him, for what he did to me. What he continues to do. Out of everything that happened to me, what he did was always the worst. He broke my heart. Shocking I know. He was the first man I had ever been with, the only person I had ever loved.

How stupid I was. It turned out it meant nothing to him. He was just using me for information, at least that’s what he told me when he broke up with me all those years ago. Right before Pettigrew killed Lily and James.

When I came back from the veil, Harry told me about the Penseive and Snape’s memories. He told me that before he found a way to save Snape, he looked through those memories and saw me. He saw what Snape did for me. It almost made me hate him more, because in the 6 months I’d been back he had not once come to me to explain. Did he not trust me enough to forgive him? Certainly, he wasn’t still grieving Lily. Besides, even if he was, Lily was dead, and I was not.

And it’s not like he had to worry about Voldemort killing him. He should have come back to me.

“I’ve moved on, Sirius. I’m engaged, her name is Alice, I believe you’ve met her. I’m sorry you’re still hurt about me leaving you. You know why I did it. But just because I’ve moved on doesn’t mean I don’t still care about you. I want to help you.”

“I don’t need or want your help. I don’t need or want you to save me.” My mind flashed back to the very similar conversation I had had with Hermione just a few days prior.

“Fine, if you don’t want my help then I have no choice but to go tell Remus,” with a swish of his robes he left the kitchen before the full weight of his words hit me. I chased after him, spilling into the living room just as Snape was approaching Remus. I needed to stop him at all costs. I made it just in time to hear him start.

“Remus we’ve something to discuss about Sirius at once.”

“Severus stop. Think about what you’re doing. This is none of your business anymore!” I tried desperately to plead with him, ignoring the stares from the few order members that had stayed to chat. Arthur and Molly were sitting on the couch, with Ron and Hermione on an arm rest each. Kingsley had been chatting with Remus before the interruption and Harry was quietly talking to Charlie in the corner.

“Why, what’s wrong?” Remus asked incredulously.

“Oh nothing big,” I tried to laugh. “Snivellus here just thought you should know about our past relationship, that’s all.”

Snape glanced at me incredulously. I could tell he was not going to let me get away with this. “Yeah, we had a fling back at Hogwarts. Long time ago. He felt bad you never knew,” he drawled.

I could tell Remus was having trouble processing this new information. His eyes grew wide with confusion before he realized just what type of relationship I had meant. I couldn’t imagine how he would process the knowledge of my self-harm.

“Oh, um, alright. Thank you for telling me, I guess,” he said quietly.

Someone else in the room whistled, it was Kingsley. “I never would have suspected you, Sirius of all people, to be gay. Not that I think its bad, I’m just surprised!”

I shuddered. “I’m not gay. I quite enjoy being with women also.”

“So you’re bisexual, then,” a soft voice called from the stairs.

It was Hermione. My how had she had grown up. Her once bushy hair was tamed and straight around her face. Her tight dress made me blush and look away, this was Hermione we were talking about after all. She stumbled slightly down the rickety stairs to join us in the living room.

“Yes,” I muttered. “I suppose I am bisexual. And I just felt I’ve no more reason to hide it.” People started to smile and congratulate me on coming out, and to Snape as well, who I could tell was quite flustered. His chance to rat on me was gone, for the moment. The remaining order members began to file out, ready to apparate home.

I walked over to Severus before he slipped out. “Fine, I’ll accept your help. Just don’t tell Remus, it would kill him.”

“Good choice. Meet me in my office at Hogwarts before classes tomorrow morning. 6am sharp.” With that he disappeared out the door, not giving me a chance to complain about the early hour.

It always pained me to see him leave. Even after all this time, I still loved that man. I sighed, pulling myself out of my ridiculous fantasy. I turned and marched passed the last of the gawking eyes right up to my room.

****

Unsurprisingly I couldn’t sleep that night. My mind kept wandering, drifting from topic to topic like a muggle changes the channels on a television. After an hour of that, I decided to move my sulking to the balcony.

I grabbed my secret stash of smokes, went out, and let myself be angry. Who did he think he was? I mean seriously, after all these years he just waltzes back into my life pretending to care about me. I’m sure he’s just reveling in how broken I am. I mean, who does he think he’s dealing with? I’m not just some poor sap who he can order around. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck hi-.

There was a knock at the door. It was 3am and I was 4 cigarettes in, so I was surprised to say the least. “Sirius, can I come in?”

Hermione, of course. Can’t a man wallow in peace? “Come in.” I heard her walk through my room to find my pitiful scene on the balcony. Cigarettes littered on the table and a half empty bottle of firewhiskey sat glaring at us.

“Couldn’t sleep?” She asked as she sat in the chair opposite me, her blue nightgown flowing in the wind.

“No I couldn’t, could you? I thought you had gone home?”

“Harry needed some company. Ron’s downstairs, too.” She picked up the pack of cigarettes and pulled one out, eyeing me carefully. I knew I should stop her, but I could only take one battle at a time with her. After magically lighting her cigarette, she took a long sip of Firewhiskey straight from the bottle. Not that I blamed her. “And no I couldn’t sleep either. We must brew an extremely advanced potion tomorrow. My OWLS depend on it.”

I stiffened at the mention of potions class and Severus. I sighed, “I’m sorry, love. I’m sure you’ll do fine. In fact, I have a meeting tomorrow morning with Snivellus. I’ll make sure he goes easy on you.”

Her eyes glistened with curiosity at my words, and her lips curled up at the corner. “Ah, you’re old lover. I’m not really that surprised, you know. You always struck me as a, well, ‘cultured’ man.”

“And just what would you know about ‘culture’ Hermione?” I teased.

Her face flashed briefly with rage before she turned away, taking a long drag of her cigarette. “I’m not a child.”

“I know, Hermione. I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. Why don’t we go back to bed.” I stood to leave.

To my utter surprise, she grabbed my arms got on her tiptoes and placed her lips harshly to mine. I froze for a second before I swiftly pushed her away. I wiped my mouth, “Hermione, what the hell are you doing?”

“I just thought, I thought I would show you how I’m not a child anymore. Well I’m sorry. Am I just not attractive enough? Do I not live up to your impeccable standards?” she cried, tears welling up in her eyes as she ashed her cigarette quickly and left. I didn’t try to stop her.

I sat back down and put my head in my hands. I couldn’t begin to imagine what was going on in that girls head. I mean I was basically double her age! I needed to get through to her that she was worth it, that she deserved so much more than a wretched old man like me.

It was 4am when I finally crawled into bed, skeptical of my ability to fall asleep yet I knew I had to try. That meeting with Severus was going to be brutal. I cringed and buried my face in my pillow before a slow, sharp pain started on the inside of my thigh.

Confused, I took my pants off to find faint cut marks beginning to form. Hermione must be hurting herself. I was beginning to be seriously worried as the marks continued to appear, and soon enough began to form a word: WHORE.

I rushed out of the room as fast as I could, luckily remembering my pants, to try and find Hermione. I checked downstairs and was met only with a snoring Ron on the Couch. She wasn’t in the kitchen, or the bathroom, or even Harry’s room. She must have left. My fist slammed into the wall loudly causing a groan from the two sleeping boys.

What was her problem? She didn’t seriously believe those things about herself, did she? Because that would just be ridiculous. She wasn’t a whore; she was just self-destructive. She wasn’t a bad person, or an unenjoyable one. The trouble would be getting this through to her.

I dragged myself back into the bed. Only 2 and ½ hours before my meeting. _Ugh,_ I thought as I drifted off to sleep.


End file.
